


Captured

by tainted-tash (tainted_tash)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dubious Consent, M/M, Missions, Sneaky Voldemort, stealthy harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-23
Updated: 2016-02-23
Packaged: 2018-05-22 21:40:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6094909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tainted_tash/pseuds/tainted-tash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The prequel to Harry Gets Caught. Harry has a mission, to enter Riddle Manor undetected and kill the Dark Lord. But unfortunately, things don't go quite according to plan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Captured

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Blessed_by_the_Goddess](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blessed_by_the_Goddess/gifts).



Captured

Hello again, my darlings. Below you will find the prequel to Harry Gets Caught. 

As always, all Harry Potter characters, places etc belong to J K Rowling, whose characters and such I steal for my own perverse amusement. No copyright infringement in intended.

Everything was planned and perfectly in place, right down to the very last detail. Harry crouched down behind the hedge that ran around Riddle Manor, his breath misting in the freezing air as he waited patiently, barely feeling the low temperature.

His blood thundered in his ears, adrenaline speeding his heart rate as he once again ran through the plan in his mind. Voldemort would be safely locked away inside his manor, Death Eaters stationed throughout the grounds and inside, protecting their master until their last breath.

Fortunately for them, Harry was not lying in wait for them. No, he was there for the one who pulled the strings, not the puppets themselves. However, should any try to foil the plan, he would not hesitate to strike them down where they stood. Months of training had hardened Harry, and his heart. He no longer had the aversion to taking a life that he’d once had. 

Especially if taking that life meant that he could finally end this godforsaken war, and let the wizarding world breathe easy for the first time in years. The peace that had been present in the time of Voldemort’s ‘death’ was something that Harry would very much like to see for himself. A time when he wouldn’t be fighting for his life, relying on pure luck to get him out of a sticky situation.

But not anymore. Harry was trained hard, but through rigorous tests and forced to become someone he had thought he could never be. Turned out that fear and hate were very driving forces and could bring out even the darkest of natures in men. A smirk twisted his lips as he noticed that it was time. Wand in hand and a coldness in his heart that no teenager should have, Harry took his first step towards the manor and prepared for the fight he had ahead. He was under no illusions that this would be an easy task, but it was one worth ploughing ahead to complete.

One that, when finished, would mean that Harry could lead a normal life, one that he had wanted for so long. Dashing around the hedge and keeping himself low, Harry kept the seconds ticking in his head, making sure to keep an eye on his surroundings and not wind up getting caught. That would be most unfortunate…for his captor.

The moon parted from the clouds and Harry had to dart into the shadow cast by a tree lest he be seen by the passing Death Eater on patrol. Waiting silently for the man to pass, Harry continued his journey towards the main entrance of the manor, mindful to watch for fallen twigs.

So far so good. He’d managed to make it to the doors without being seen and checked his watch. Three minutes had passed. Excellent, he was right on track. Checking under his jeans leg, he found the sheath with the dagger hidden within and breathed a silent sigh of relief that it was still there. Even though it was secured tightly to his leg, he was paranoid that he would wind up somehow losing it. 

Moody had dipped the blade in basilisk venom to make doubly sure that the Dark Lord would remain dead, with no chance of coming back like he did seven years ago. They had hunted down all of Voldemort’s horcruxes, and now that he was mortal, Harry had only Death Eaters standing in his way of being free of Tom fucking Riddle’s insane desire to rule the wizarding world.

Harry checked around him before slipping through the heavy double doors and into the manor. Still he was unseen, but he knew not to become overly confident. He remained in high alert and his attention on all of his surroundings.

The manor was as cold and dark as the black heart that Voldemort had, it’s oppressing atmosphere making it feel so much smaller than what it actually was. The walls were sparse with the occasional painting dotted around. 

But Harry didn’t stick around to admire the lack of décor. Moving stealthily towards the grand staircase, Harry ducked into an alcove when he spotted a Death Eater walking towards his position. Waiting with bated breath, Harry listened intently until the footsteps faded away and he felt it safe to continue on. 

Keeping his pace quickly but silently. Harry climbed the stairs and glanced around every few moments to make sure he was still alone. It wouldn’t do to be caught now, not when he was so close to his target. The only problem he now had was working out which room was the Dark Lord’s.

The first floor heralded nothing but dank, empty rooms, no doubt unseeing of a person in years- decades maybe. Harry climbed to the second floor and found a more lived in floor. The first room he checked was nothing more than a junk room. Then he found a study, with more books than the Hogwarts library. 

It was only when he checked on the third floor that he found the master bedroom. Breathing could be heard on the other side of the door, and Harry looked around, almost expecting someone to come out shouting that he was there. But no one did. 

He pushed the door open, fearful that the wood would squeak and give him away. But luck was on his side and no sound was made. His shoes barely even clicked on the marble floor, his steps so light it was like he wasn’t actually touching the floor.

He shut the door behind and threw up a ward that would alert him if someone was close, giving him a chance to hide or flee, though hopefully not before his mission was complete. 

Harry took a moment to look around, finding a desk pushed near the wall under the window, the curtains open and weak moonlight streaming in. The silvery light caressed everything it touched, and when Harry turned to look at the bed, he found it highlighted the normally cold and terrifying features of the Dark Lord.

The face that had haunted Harry’s nightmares for so long was slackened by sleep, the deep, red eyes hidden by closed lids, and a mouth that dished out the cruellest of words looked almost inviting. Harry shook his head in disgust and mentally slapped himself for such thoughts. His mind was working overdrive because of all the stress he’d been under, that was all. 

It was strange, seeing such a cold blooded murderer looking almost innocent as he slept. Pale skin, bordering on grey, looked translucent in the moonlight, the veins easily visible more than ever. Skin stretched tautly over muscles, seemingly weak, looking emaciated. But Harry knew there was a hidden strength in that body, one that could rival any fully grown man.

It fascinated him how someone could be so scrawny yet hold a strength such as his. But soon, Harry would extinguish that strength. Seven years of fighting for his life and it all boiled down to this moment. The dagger weighed heavily against his leg and he grabbed it, the blade glittering in the pale light as he looked down at the sleeping Dark Lord.

He leant closer and raised the dagger high. Moody had said to go straight for the heart, the poison would do the work if he happened to miss Voldemort’s heart. Harry steeled himself and swung the blade downward, realising at the last second that the Dark Lord had only been feigning sleep when red eyes shot open and locked with his.

A cool hand snaked around his wrist and halted the motion of the blade. Harry was yanked and rolled as Voldemort tugged him down onto the bed and pinned his hand holding the dagger down. “Little Harry Potter, stealing into my room in the dead of night to murder me,” he said silkily.

Harry hissed nastily at him and tried to throw the taller man off him. “It is no less than you deserve! You’re calling me a murderer but how many people have you slaughtered needlessly over the years?”

Voldemort threw his head back and laughed coldly. “Oh my, we have got a sharp tongue tonight. Tell me, Harry, did you really think that a silly little dagger would finish me off?”

The teenager grinned maniacally and winked at him. “Yes, now that we know your little secret.”

Doubt flickered in those frightening red eyes. “Secret? Dear child, I have no secrets.”

Harry grinned widely, his teeth flashing in the night. “Helga’s cup, Salazar’s locket, your diary, need I continue?”

For a second, Harry thought that Voldemort was going to start screaming in rage, but he was once again shocked by the dark wizard. “Oh, the horcruxes. Yes, I suspected that when things went quiet in the war that the old man had told you about them. How do you know that I haven’t made more during this time?”

Harry was only able to shrug one shoulder, his other arm still pinned in the impossibly strong grasp of Voldemort. “Because if you split your soul any further, you’ll go insane. Well, more than you already are.”

Voldemort sat back, ripped the dagger from Harry’s hold and flung it across the room, the tip burying in the wood door frame. “Indeed, you make a very valid point. However, I am guessing that you destroyed all six of my horcruxes?” A sharp nod from Harry. “I see, but you did not destroy my seventh one,” he whispered.

Fear shot through Harry and for the first time that night, he was unsure of where things were going. No one told him there were more than six horcruxes. Fuck. Now what was he supposed to do? He was caught in a trap with no escape and he doubted he’d be given even half a second to grab his wand.

“Ah, is that a hint of fear I see your eyes? I thought as much. You see, the interesting thing is that even I didn’t know I had a seventh one until recently.”

Harry frowned, grabbing onto the lifeline to stall for time and try to come up with some sort of plan that wouldn’t lead to his own death. “I don’t understand- you have to murder someone to create a horcrux.”

Voldemort nodded. “Indeed you do, and I did, on the night I took the lives of your mother and father. You see, boy, you were the horcrux I never intended to make. So unless you want to do your world a favour and take your own life to make it easier for someone else to kill me, I think I’m going to be around for quite some time.”

That was the moment his entire plan came crumbling down around his ears. The entire night was going to pot and he had absolutely no escape now. And though he was certain that Voldemort would not kill him, as that would make him fully mortal once more, he could easily be kept as a prisoner for an indefinite amount of time.

And one could scarcely imagine the sort of horrors that would await him being locked up in the Dark Lord’s dungeons. Harry frantically looked around for something he could use as a weapon but there was nothing, he was at the total mercy of Voldemort. 

“Now what to do with you,” Voldemort mused quietly. “I could put you in the dungeons, but why do that when I could have so much more fun here.”

Harry couldn’t even comprehend what the hell that meant, but he seriously did not want to find out. “Please…let me go.”

“Oh I do not think so, Harry. You see, you have broken into my home, with the intention of killing me in my sleep where I am defenceless.”

True fear ran like ice in his veins and Harry fought with all his might to escape, his body thrashing in every direction to get free. But that cool hand holding his wrist refused to let go, the grasp never slacking even for a second. 

“What...what are you going to do? You know that they’ll come looking for me.”

Voldemort nodded. “I expect they will, but until then, I have plenty of time. I saw you, watching me, when you were stood near the window. I must say, it was a most curious expression.”

Well, that was an unexpected sentence. “I have no idea what you mean, I wasn’t ‘watching’ you.”

Voldemort laughed and his lips pulled back over his teeth in a sneer. “Really? Well, it certainly looked like it to me. But, no matter. Now, be a good boy and remove your wand from your sleeve, and throw it to the other side of the room.”

Harry shook his head violently. “Like hell!”

“Do it or I will break your arm. You’ll have already realised that I won’t kill you, not now that I know what you are. But with magic, I can break and heal you many times over.”

Harry whimpered before he could stop it. “Please, just let me go.”

Red eyes gleamed in the darkness and Harry shuddered at the sheer desire he could see there. This was not going the way he had planned at all. Nope, not one little bit. 

“There is something so desirable about finding a lithe, young man in your bed, especially when he is at your mercy. Tell me, Harry, have you ever been with a man before?”

Harry shook his head and renewed his efforts to get away from Voldemort. There was no way in hell that he was going to allow this happen. Surely it was all just a sick joke, a way to scare Harry? Before Harry could think any further, cold lips pressed against his own warm ones, stealing the very breath from him. Shit, not a joke.

Jerking away, Harry grabbed a thin lip between his teeth and bit down. Hard. Voldemort hissed angrily and pinned Harry to the bed by straddling his hips. “Feisty, eh? It’s good to see you haven’t lost your fight, Harry. It would make things so…boring.”

Those cold lips were back on his, leaving Harry to fight as best he could, but the Dark Lord was an immovable weight on his hips. The worst part of it all, was that his body was beginning to stir to life, his teenage hormones springing to life.

His cock hardened and he bit back a moan, begging his body to stop betraying him. Soft bed under his back and hard man at his front, Harry’s defences were being destroyed with every touch of lips, every brush of their groins.

His tongue snaked into Voldemort’s mouth before he could even stop it, stroking quickly along the forked one of the Dark Lord before retreating back into his mouth. 

“Hmm, you taste of pumpkin juice,” Voldemort noted quietly.

Harry grimaced and tried to throw him off once again, but it was a half-hearted attempt, his body screaming for touch, cock throbbing painfully in the confines of his jeans, and his skin overheated. “Please.”

Harry didn’t know what he was begging for by that point, only that he needed something. Anything. Voldemort seemed only too happy to oblige in that plea and devoured his mouth with a new vigour that seemed to startle him more than it did Harry.

He ravaged the teen’s mouth and Harry twisted his wrist until it was free. But instead of going for his wand, it moved to the back of Voldemort’s bald head and cupped the smooth skin, pulling him closer. 

Moody screamed in his mind, called him a traitor and every other name under the sun, and yet, in that moment, Dumbledore himself could have been there and Harry wouldn’t have stopped. Something flashed in his mind, and Harry saw his mother begging for her son’s life as Voldemort raised his wand to kill fifteen month old Harry.

It was that which brought Harry back to his senses. He let that forked tongue enter his mouth before he clamped his teeth down as hard as he could on it, relishing in the scream of pain that erupted from Voldemort.

Harry dashed off the bed and out of the door before the Dark Lord could blink and was tearing down the hall to the staircase. The Death Eaters must have heard the scream, feet were thundering on the marble steps and Harry ducked into a room that was open.

Well, it seemed that he had found the library easily enough, though who kept a library on the third floor Harry didn’t know. Voices stopped outside the door and Harry ducked behind some shelves and climbed up, using the shelves to hold his body up or his feet would be seen on the floor.

The door opened and Harry held his breath, trying to peer out among the shelves without being seen. “I don’t care, Dolohov. Find him!” Voldemort hissed.

The door shut sharply and the candles floating about the room came to life, leaving Harry bathed in shadows, for the time being. He couldn’t move without being seen, so he was stuck, hanging off the shelves and praying that Voldemort would leave.

“Dear me, Harry, you really didn’t pick the best room to hide in, now did you?” Voldemort called softly.

Harry wanted to thunk his head against the bookcase in frustration with himself. Only he could find himself trapped in a library with Voldemort stalking him out like some fucking lion. That made Harry give an involuntary snort of laughter and he did thunk his head then.

Cold fingers grabbed his arm and he was wrenched out, thrown over the desk and laughed at. “Oh dear, what a predicament you have yourself in now.”

Harry glared back angrily, his hand twitching to go for his wand.

“Looking for this?” Voldemort said, holding up the holly wand Harry had owned since he was eleven. “It truly fascinates me that our wands have always refused to let us kill one another.”

Harry shrugged. “What does it matter? We both know you won’t kill me now.”

Voldemort gave a nod of acknowledgment to that statement. “Quite right, boy. But you still have something that I want, and I intend to resume taking it.”

He tried to make a run for the door, but the Dark Lord was faster and a strong ward was erected with Harry’s wand before he could even get close enough to touch the door. “God damn it! Why are you doing this?”

“Because I can, and because I have wanted you, Harry Potter, and I intend to finally take you.”

Harry was backed into the wall, his body being bracketed by a cold body, thin skin rasping against his own where it touched him. The heavy outer robe was shed, leaving the Dark Lord in but his sleep pants.

Heart hammering in his chest, Harry swallowed loudly. “Why?”

Voldemort smirked at him and leant close. “Because you were the one thing that was untouchable by anyone- most of all me. In taking your blood for my resurrection I could touch you, and now, it doesn’t even hurt you. Do you know why that is?” Harry shook his head. “Because my objective changed. I no longer wished for you to die. So long as I do not intend to kill you, I can touch you. A slight loophole in the protection your mother gave you.”

Harry shivered as fingers brushed lightly over his cheek, the cool digits leaving a trail of fire in their wake. But the Dark Lord was right, there was no pain. Only the intense flaring of desire that shot through his stomach and raised goosebumps along his flesh.

The tiny hairs on his arms and on the back on his neck stood on end, lust curling hot in his lower belly. Harry tried to tamper it down, fought against his body reacting to the touch. “Please stop this.”

Voldemort chuckled low and pressed his mouth to Harry’s. “No.”

A long fingered hand pressed against his clothed cock, the flesh achingly hard and Harry bucked into the simple touch. Was his first time having sex really to be with his mortal enemy? The one man who had spent Harry’s life either plotting or trying to kill him.

The mouth on his lowered to press soft kisses along his jaw and throat, his teeth nipping at the skin, red welts appearing. Harry bucked against him and moaned low in his throat, his chest vibrating with the noise. 

His jumper and shirt were shredded by long nails, the air hitting his skin and making his nipples harden. A brush of cool air was all the warning that Harry got before one was abused by Voldemort’s mouth, the other being tweaked by his hand.

Harry’s cock strained against his jeans, harder than ever and precum soaked the front of his boxers, making the material sticky and cling to his skin. Harry found his hands pinned above his head when he reached to run his fingers over Voldemort’s thin chest.

He whined at not being able to touch back then bucked angrily when he realised that he was reacting to Voldemort’s ministrations. In the blink of an eye, Harry found himself naked under a whispered spell from Voldemort.

A gasp flew from Harry’s lips and he twisted to hide his body, still small and scrawny from years of malnutrition at the hands of the Dursley’s. “Beautiful,” Voldemort hissed in Parseltongue. 

Harry blushed and hid tears of humiliation at being told he was beautiful while fighting against the man who wanted to forcefully take his virginity. 

Fingers tipped his head up and Harry squeezed his eyes shut, not wanting to see the mockery in the red eyes that scared, and mesmerised, Harry. “Look at me.”

Harry shook his head and bit his lip. “No.”

Voldemort knelt before Harry and flicked his forked tongue over the weeping head of Harry’s cock. “Harry, you don’t even know how sensual you are.”

His cock was swallowed whole and Harry’s hands shot to Voldemort’s head as he pushed himself deeper. Throat muscles worked around his hard length and Harry thrust wildly, taking some pleasure from the Dark Lord.

Just as his orgasm neared, he was held still and Voldemort rose back to his feet. “Tell me you want this.”

“No, I will not,” Harry spat.

Voldemort laughed silkily, his voice washing over Harry. “Oh you will, before I am through with you, you will be begging me to let you come.”

Harry was pressed against the wall as the Dark Lord stripped out of his sleep pants and summoned some lubricant from somewhere in the library. Slim, pale fingers dipped in and smeared the substance over his fingers. He knelt back down and hoisted one of Harry’s legs over his shoulder, exposing Harry’s pucker to his hungry eyes.

His forefinger traced the closed ring and nudged inside, sinking it in as far as his knuckles. Harry let out a strained hiss, no longer fighting him. The sensations that were washing over him were too much to name, too much to process. There was only feeling, taking, being given and watching as Voldemort prepared with an almost gentle quality.

With three fingers finally inside him, Harry was bucking onto them, taking them as deep as he could and whimpering loudly. Voldemort rose back to his feet and slicked his cock with the lubricant, stroking himself a few times, red eyes locked on Harry’s flushed face. 

Harry stared at him through hooded eyes, the green of his irises barely visible with his pupils blown so wide with lust. Voldemort snaked his hands under Harry’s thighs and lifted him, bracing his weight against the wall and lowering the teen until the head of his cock brush Harry’s tight arse.

Once the head breached him, Harry gave a small groan of pain, the cock of the Dark Lord far thicker than the fingers he’d just had inside him. Voldemort pressed a kiss to his lips and swallowed the cries of pain, murmuring softly until he was fully seated in Harry.

The first thrust into Harry left the seventeen-year-old breathless and he choked on a cry of pleasure. “Beg me, Harry.”

Harry stubbornly shook his head, a smirk playing on his lips. “Make me.”

Voldemort’s slitted nostrils flared as he took on that challenge and pounded into Harry forcefully, their skin slapping together as sweat made their bodies slippery. Harry gasped repeatedly, moans of pleasure falling from his lips and his cock bounced against their stomachs, desperately seeking the miniscule friction he would need to come.

The thrusts became more violent as the Dark Lord neared his orgasm, his teeth gritted as he fought it off, determined to make Harry beg for his release. And when it became too much, beg he did.

“Oh, my Lord! Please! Please let me come!” He screamed into the room.

Grinning widely, Voldemort wrapped his fingers around Harry’s cock and pumped the organ as he pounded into Harry’s body. The teenager screamed himself hoarse as his orgasm ripped through him, spilling himself over the Dark Lord’s hand and over their stomachs.

Voldemort followed a moment after, his cock pulsing inside Harry as he spurted uncontrollably. Harry almost toppled to the floor when Voldemort’s legs gave out from under them. He staggered back, pulling Harry with him and transfigured a chair into a bed and collapsed on it. 

He pulled Harry against his chest and nuzzled his hair gently. “Mine,” he hissed.

Harry didn’t have the strength to argue, and honestly, even if he had, he wouldn’t have done. He had no idea what to do about the Light side, but he would deal with that later. For now, he would simply accept that he had been captured.

~Finis~

 

Well, just a little something to tide all my lovely readers over. I originally wrote Harry Gets Caught for my Sissy, who can be found on AO3 under the name Blessed_By_The_Goddess. After many requests from readers for a prequel, the inspiration finally hit to deliver that. So I hope you all enjoyed this story and I look forward to hearing your thoughts on it  Until next time my lovelies *kisses*


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